[Roughly about a decade before the return of Nightmare Moon...]

 

"I FORBID IT."

Of course you do.

Harcourt's muzzle wrinkled in disgust, but he said not a word - not yet.

His eyes were locked on those of his Father, the strong and imposing Luther Blackwater; the stare was returned, in spades.  He had always had a bit of a rebel in his blood, but this was a first for the young stallion - he'd never right out stared his Father down... well, he hadn't ever succeeded, anyway.  Luther always managed to make his gaze crumple like so much waste paper.  No matter the argument, the elder Blackwater always seemed to be the one who came out on top, and though he only used that fact when necessary - such as a young Harcourt wanting to follow the pegasi over the side of the Wall - it STILL never sat well with him.

Well, he thought, tonight, that changes.

"I... don't... CARE."

Though Luther didn't budge one inch, the look in his eyes was plain to see - there was no hiding his Father's emotions; he was simultaneously shocked, saddened and outraged.  The veins in the proud workhorse's neck throbbed warningly, and his jaw clenched ever-so-slightly... which, though tame-looking to others, was just short of a full-blown tantrum for the stallion himself.  His emotions always seemed to range between annoyed and angry - and Luther Blackwater looked absolutely LIVID.

"I've already explained that I have given you EVERY opportunity to change my mind about this - and you've said NOTHING.  And it has not the first thing to do with work, because you've ALWAYS come to me when you saw I was upset... always took time away when I wanted to talk to you... so I'm afraid I will NOT buy any sort of excuse about not having the time to exp-"

Luther stomped.  Once.  The stone under Harcourt's hooves shuddered, and at once he was afraid.  

NO!  Not THIS time, nor EVER again!

"I did not SAY I had no time - I felt it was not needed.  There was no reason to talk you out of your 'wander', because I had thought you would be smart enough to see the folly in it and STAY.  I believed you would-"

"Simply BOW to your whimsy yet again!?  I don't THINK so!"

Harcourt decided to stomp as well... but, though it was a sturdy stomp (to the point of actually hurting a bit), it was nowhere near the same power level as his Father.  

Luther had been a rock-kicker for quite some time, from all he'd gathered, anyway.  The foreponies there had only been employed since his Father had taken over - not a single pony here had been from before, when Grandfather Erasmus had been in charge; none of the current staff could even answer Harcourt's questions, because none of them had been employed here before that.

Regardless, even if his show of force had been less than his opponent's, the deed had been done.

Luther, surprisingly, blinked.  And when his eyes opened, Harcourt could swear the look of stern admonishment that the elder Blackwater had always worn... faltered.  For a second, it almost looked as though Luther was genuinely dismayed at the sight of his eldest colt making such a display.  It was a look that Harcourt had never seen before cross his Father's face; he didn't like it at all.

Fortunately (so to speak), the look didn't last long; within seconds, Luther hadn't just recovered - he redoubled, standing at his full height, his powerful barrel swelling with indignant fury, his eyes narrowing to slits, and a huff of a snort to round out a very intimidating sight.

"This is a FOOLISH thing to stand up for!  You do not understand the things that are being planned!  You cannot leave at such a crucial time as this!"

Luther had never used contractions; can't, won't and don't had never crossed the powerful stallion's lips during Harcourt's entire youth.  He used to wonder why it was so, but once he got older he began to understand that his Father simply preferred his own methods of doing things.  Far be it for ANYpony to tell Luther Blackwater what was what; the stallion did things HIS way, because it was just how HE had always been.

Which, in turn, had led to the current situation.

Ever since he'd learned from his tutors about the entire world around him, Harcourt had wanted to travel.  His Mother, Vylia, had always simply laughed over the idea - but secretly, she'd always managed to buy him picture books of places he'd heard about.  Places like Griffonstone, Las Pegasus, Baltimare and the Everfree Forest.  Places he had dreamed about, going to so many exotic locales in nothing more than his own mind.

Though he'd threatened to run away after his baby brother had been born, he hadn't done it.  He'd given the squirt the business - and the little tyke didn't just take it on the chin, but he'd STILL want to be around his 'Big Bruvva'.  How could you keep hating something as friggin' adorable as that?  So, he'd ended up getting along with him in the end... but still, the itch to journey the world continued to poke at him mentally.

So, once he'd finally reached his twenty-third Summer, Harcourt Blackwater had decided he was no longer going to remain here in this grand but lonely mansion.  He was destined to see everything!  He would travel abroad and study all sorts of cultures, living in the nicest of places, eating the most exotic cuisine... living the life he KNEW would be perfect for an active and capable stallion like himself.  

His Father?  He'd been born in this cockamamie emerald quarry; he'd been on business trips, but that seemed to legitimately be what they were - simple business trips.  Luther even knew a few foreign languages... a curiosity, as he could have easily hired any number of translators to tell him every nuance of what was being said.  Other than work, he could never recall seeing Luther Blackwater even leave the quarry for so much as a trip to Canterlot with Mother.  He seemed quite fine being here, among his shiny rocks and his big-fish-little-pond mentality... but Harcourt wanted something else.  

And he was willing to fight for it.

"Well, I've had ENOUGH of your plans for me!  It's like you don't even trust me to do what I WANT to do in life!  What, are you planning on keeping me locked inside these walls forever!?  Keep me as a STOOGE to you, letting you control my every waking moment!?  WELL, TO TARTARUS WITH THAT MANURE!"

Luther's eyes widened as Harcourt swore at his Father for the first time ever - and the look on Luther's muzzle said it had both disappointed and angered him.

"LANGUAGE!"

"SEE!?!  You even want to control every word I say!!!!!"

A nearby rumble of thunder made an aural exclamation point for Harcourt's words, making the young stallion feel empowered and giving him some confidence in this time of his rebellion against the one that had raised him.  He dared his Father to say a word, anything, that would jar him from his high-and-mighty perch NOW!

The elder Blackwater shut his eyes, took and released a deeeeeeep breath, then re-opened them - and they were no longer angry... but soulful and almost pleading.  "Harcourt... I want to train you to run the quarry, and you cannot learn how to run it if you are not here."

With those words from his Father, he was jostled from his high-and-mighty perch.

Luther's face evened out - a rare sight to see - and he sighed again.

"I... I have been reviewing my employees' records and work charts, and none of them have the things required to be able to effectively take my place here.  They are smart, yes - but they are not the kind of smart that YOU are, Harcourt.  You are the one who will be the BEST choice for such a position... because you already KNOW what is necessary for the quarry to continue on after... after I am no longer able to run it."

Harcourt stood there, his face almost blank, save for a look of incredulous disbelief.  Honestly, nothing else Luther had said had gotten through; the young stallion was stuck on the first sentence his father had spoken, and his mind was a fire that was building and raging unchecked in his head.  

Luther continued, not at all aware of the level of his son's rage.

"I have had many problems with trust over these many years, due to Management."  Luther had always called Grandpa Erasmus 'Management'.  "But if there are ponies anywhere that I feel I can trust, it would be my own family.  A family that I am CERTAIN are worthy ponies to succeed me.  And it is YOU, Harcourt, whom I have chosen to inherit the entire quarry when I... step down."

"This... was a difficult decision ONLY because I am not yet ready to step aside... but after much thinking, I have realized that I should begin showing you how to maintain the quarry while I am still able to do so.  As well, I would like to show you many things here that I feel are impor-"

"YOU WANT ME TO STAY HERE FOREVER, DON'T YOU!?"

The yell was almost Royal Canterlot Voice level, and at this Luther actually backed up three steps, staring open-jawed at his belligerent son.  This shock was only momentary, as Luther recovered with an angry huff and more words.

"UNGRATEFUL!  I OFFER YOU MY ENTIRE WORLD-"

"I DON'T WANT YOUR WORLD!  I WANT MY OWN!"

More thunder from outside, and as if it had been the bell signaling the beginning of a boxing match, Harcourt and Luther's heads came together - they were now directly eye-to-eye with each other... and they were BOTH mad enough to spit flames.

"AND WHAT DO YOU KNOW OF WHAT YOU WANT!?"

"NOTHING, BECAUSE YOU WON'T... LET... ME... FIND... OUT!"

"I AM TRYING TO GIVE YOU A FUTURE!"

"NO, YOU'RE TRYING TO FOIST YOUR PAST OFF ONTO ME!"

"I HAVE BORNE BLOOD, SWEAT AND TEARS HERE - THIS IS OUR ANCESTRAL HOME!  OUR LEGACY!  OUR ENTIRE LIVELIHOOD!"

"IT'S A HOLE IN THE GROUND, AND YOU'RE AN ANGRY COLT PLAYING WITH WHAT HE BELIEVES ARE HIS 'TOYS', MAKING THEM DO WHATEVER HE WANTS THEM TO DO!"

"THAT IS FALSE!  I AM NOT MANAGEMENT!"

"NO - YOU'RE WORSE!"

At that, Luther's face didn't just twitch... it fell.  His normally cold blue eyes glistened, and the look on his muzzle was one of pained surprise.  Uncharacteristically, he spoke softly and with the sound of a bereaved question in his voice.

"... but... but he never loved me... and... and I lov-"

"YOU'RE WORSE BY FAR!"

 

>WHAP!<

 

The sound was sharp and quick.  There was a soft gasp from behind the office door... but otherwise, you could hear a Breezie blink.

Harcourt had finally lost his temper.  

All those years he'd been working with tutors and even his own little brother to keep himself and his errant tongue in check - gone in an instant, as the young Blackwater stallion had just struck Luther in the face.

To his credit, Harcourt had the good sense to be surprised that he'd gone that far; he stared at his hoof for a moment, then back at Luther.  The elder stallion had taken it directly on the right cheek, and had turned his head and closed his eyes, his silver-framed spectacles knocked to the floor.  That was all.  He simply stood there, and Harcourt could see the moist spots on the carpet where his Father's tears had been literally slapped from his face.

I have to get OUT of this place...

Harcourt turned and bolted for the door, and dashed outside into what was apparently a driving, pouring rain - everywhere except within the walls of the Blackwater Quarry - a weirdness he could neither explain, nor did he currently wish to consider.  He took off down the path that led to the quarry yard, ultimately seeking the front gates.  His heart was hammering in his ears as he reached the bottom in record time.

Is he-

Out of the manor came Luther Blackwater, charging like a bull and roaring in a wordless, inarticulate yell as he bore down the path, his eyes almost aflame with rage.  Harcourt had never, ever, EVER seen his Father in such a state, and all the bravado went out of him in a rush.  There was no WAY he'd want even a moment in the grip of the enraged stallion - and he knew he'd have to really RUN to get outside of the gates.  Lucky for him, he'd already asked the gatekeep to raise the portcullis and open the large doors... he'd been expecting to pass through quickly, but the current situation called for more expediency than he'd thought he'd need.

But he was no slouch, and as soon as he passed the threshhold of the massive gate, he was deluged with rain, and soaked clean to the bone in short order.

Luther Blackwater skidded to a halt just on the quarry side of the gate, and bucked the stone and steel wall next to him.  A chunk of the mostly invincible wall went sailing backwards, and Luther raised his deep bass voice to levels that rivaled the princesses themselves as he called after Harcourt; they would be the last words that the young stallion would hear from his own Father:

 

"NEVER RETURN HERE!

MY QUARRY!

MY RULES!

NO EXCEPTIONS!"

 

He stood there for a moment, trying in vain to track Harcourt's movement in the harsh downpour... but he'd lost sight of the young stallion almost as soon as he'd gone out into the weather.  After another moment or two, Luther stepped back, and the massive gates closed with a deep thump, sealing off the outside world from the quarry once more - and sealing Harcourt Blackwater from ever coming back inside.

Water ran freely down Luther Blackwater's muzzle - yet he'd never even gotten into the rain.